Wedding Day Massacre

“You knew we were gonna use it, but up until now, it just didn’t make sense with so many people around,” Sebastian explained to Cindy and Paula.

The duo still remained traumatized from all they’d endured, not to mention all they’d witnessed. While the blood on their bridesmaid dresses had time to dry up, they knew they were always only an unforeseen outburst away from getting soiled with a fresh coating again.

Sebastian caressed the side of the lethal chemical tank, wiping his bloody hand against the glass. The contrast of the green liquid and maroon warmth gave off a Christmas vibe you might expect to see in a serial killer’s house.

“It’s a numbers game now, I’m afraid. You see, Jinx and I aren’t part of the calculation, but for the final celebration, I require balance. Right now, we have my man, Perry,” he said, extending his hand for the high-five.

Perry quickly obliged him; it wasn’t as if he had a choice…

“The talented DJ Buttaz,” he said, turning toward him. “So, that’s two men remaining… but then there’s the three of you…”

Sebastian shuffled around in his pocket before finally extracting a nickel. “So, because my wife will, of course, need to be present until the end, being that it’s her ceremony, that leaves you two,” he flipped the coin and snatched it out of the air and slapped it down on the top of his hand.

“Unfortunately, it’s time to trim the fat. Cindy, I always liked you best, so I’ll let you call it.”

Paula’s face crinkled as she seemed offended by Sebastian’s remark. Cindy began to perspire, considering all that was on the line with the fifty-fifty call she had to make.

She looked at Taylor who stood a short distance away. To Cindy, it was clear by Taylor’s expression that she wasn’t thinking about trying to reason with her twisted husband or making a plea for her closest friends. She was most likely consumed with figuring out her own next move. Cindy knew exactly how she operated—saving her own ass was the only priority in that self-centered brain of hers.

“Tails…” Cindy uttered as the choice coincided with the thought running around her head about Taylor’s rump.

Sebastian removed his hand and peeked down at the uncovered coin. “Excellent choice, young lady!” he gleefully chirped.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what all of this means, what the significance of a coin flip really amounts to. I think it’s pretty obvious and easy to absorb. Anyone who’s been to one of those traveling carnivals probably already knows.”

He pointed up to the seat above the acid tank which was encompassed by a cage-like fencing. “Paula will take her seat here, and Cindy, because you won, you’ll get the first three throws. Should you hit the target on any throw, your opponent will, of course, be dropped into this tank of nitric acid and other fun chemicals. I spent months perfecting this blend, it should dissolve one of you quicker than a tooth in a glass of Coke. Much quicker,” he smirked.

Sebastian stuck his head over the small vat to look into the liquid. “As you can see, the phones that we dumped in here, what feels like ages ago, are no more. So, you can rest assured that once your tender flesh gets dunked, the meat should be sliding off bones like butter.”

The girls were already crying before he could finish explaining what was about to happen. Paula turned to Cindy and gave her a hug, then pulled her mouth close to her ear.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. I forgive you for everything. Just try to hit the target, don’t think about it,” Paula whispered.

“This is real fucking heartwarming, but just get in the goddamn dunk cage now, Paula!” Sebastian screamed, scooping up the AK from the table beside him and leveling it at her face.

As Sebastian watched her ascend the metal steps, he clinched his abdomen. It still burned from the bullet that had lodged itself inside his gut. He was having difficulty talking and focusing, but still, he powered through it. They were nearing the finish, there was no room left for weakness.

Jinx locked Paula in the cage after she slid inside, and Taylor’s best friend carefully set her buttocks down on the narrow seat above the steaming acid. As the strong odor of the toxic chemical composition attacked her, she began to feel a bit woozy. Despite her lightheadedness, she tried to focus and control her breathing, but that was easier said than done.

“Alright, you see where that hand is?” Sebastian asked casually.

Cindy looked around a bit confused until her glossy eyes found a destroyed and blackened hand that was mangled severely from the rocket attack a short time ago.

“Yes, that one. That’s the line. Don’t step past it or the two of you will be trading places,” Sebastian warned.

He reached over to the table where a baseball sat. It had been waiting since back when he had offered up his weathered but trusty Easton bat to the ladies. With everything else that was going on, the others had thought little of it. He tossed the white sphere with red laces toward her.

Cindy struggled to wrap her hands around the baseball before finally catching it. She ran her fingers over the threading, trying to comprehend what she was about to do. She’d already gnawed on a dead child’s face and while that action assisted in the countless murders of many staff, it wasn’t actually her who had cut them to pieces. This was different. This was going to be all on her…

“You get three tries. Now, please, if you would, proceed,” Sebastian said, stepping away from the tank. He planned to avoid any splashing of the hazardous soup, clearly learning from the incident with the rocket launcher and nasty shrapnel.

The remaining survivors all followed his lead and created a safe distance from the dangerous drowning pool and their own carnal vehicles. All eyes were on Cindy as tears continued to secrete from her damp lids. She stared at her girlfriend, Paula, who gritted her teeth waiting.

The pause lingered like a broccoli and bean-based fart. A sense of dread and sadness clung to Cindy in addition to the fear of her own life being flushed down the toilet. If she missed, she might die, but if she landed the throw, she’d probably still die and then go to hell afterwards.

“Just do it, Cindy!” Paula yelled.

Cindy hauled back and dragged the baseball behind her ear and launched it forward. It felt like time stopped as the white leather rotated through the air. Still, it didn’t take long to realize that the throw was completely off target.

The ball crashed onto the floor before it even reached the tank. It rolled to a standstill in the crimson that seemed to still dominate the majority of the spiffy ballroom floor.

Paula let out an exhale of relief and took in another deep breath of potent diabolic compounds emanating from the tank below. Her lungs burned as she tried to locate the current position of the ball.

“Christ, that was bowling shoe ugly,” Sebastian snarked. He quickly scooped up the ruby orb and tossed it back to Cindy, who caught it with ease this time. “Do it again, but this time, do it like you understand that your ass is gonna be on that seat next if you fuck this up.”

Cindy was feeling wobbly—the pressure of the situation couldn’t have been more crushing. The target was massive and only about a mere car’s length away in distance. Even her less than athletic delivery should be able to hit it without issue. In fact, she remembered being at a town fair some time ago and doing just that.

She envisioned everything she could remember from that dark evening. The glowing carny lights. The smell of buttery popcorn. The mustached man with the top hat and an urge to swindle in his eye. The sounds of the classic predictable circus-like music escaping cheap crackly speakers.

When Cindy cranked the ball back this time, she was more relaxed somehow. She even used a crow’s grip around it as she again pulled it behind her ear. Maybe it was easier because she didn’t see Paula and her grinding teeth and runny eyes. She didn’t see the tortured and tormented wrinkles discombobulating her expression. Instead, she saw the silly clown in the striped outfit blowing on a whistle playfully. The same greasepaint-dipped smelly nomad who had already been dunked countless times that evening. Surely one more dip wouldn’t hurt him, would it?

The pitch couldn’t have been more accurate; it smacked the multi-layered target dead in the white dotted center. And when the stiff metallic ping resounded throughout the room, the seat shifted downward until it was completely vertical.

Paula screamed as gravity would become her doomsday, pulling her entire frame under the steaming poisonous concoction. Her insuppressible agony allowed a sizable swallow of the corrosive liquid to journey down her throat. The bubbling brew sizzled her digestive tract, leaving her intestines rumbling and her organs aching. While on the inside her critical cogs were painstakingly melting to mush, her exterior was in far worse shape.

When she resurfaced from the initial plunge into the bath of emerald-shaded syrup, her skin was cracking and raw. The once healthy cells were already beginning to break down. Paula’s previously milky complexion was burning off and the blood and pigment was being forced to migrate south.

As her flesh dripped away from her body, the pain became unbearable. The dip had left Paula’s eyes immediately scorched. Her mouth had sucked down plenty of acid, and her nose had pulled some of the destructive fluid deep into her sinuses. She coughed out in primal fashion while screaming at the top of her dissolving lungs. She felt around blindly, searching for some type of assistance that would never come.

The remaining guests looked on, horrified as the already disturbing devolved into something no one expects to see in their lifetime. The slimy sheets of her flapping skin peeled off as she scratched helplessly at her disgusting surface. They eventually slipped off altogether from her newly greased shell.

Paula gripped her bony exposed fingers around the cage’s bars and elevated herself to a point where she was partially out of the now maroon mush pit.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sebastian remarked as he unloaded the hand cannon. He wrapped his arm around his throbbing gut and was pleased to see that the pain wasn’t in vain.

The cluster of bullets found the mark without issue, causing a mini-explosion of gore and fingers to erupt. There was nothing left for Paula to hold on with anymore and she tumbled backward into the dreadful death pool.

Her screams were stunted again by a flood of the now amber liquid. She swallowed not only the noxious elements again, but also her own dissolving body tissue. She could feel the hairs running off of her scalp and her lips flattening and detaching from her mouth.

When she broke through the top of the liquid this time, she was far less vivacious. The only bubbliness about her was the seltzer-like fizz that accompanied Paula’s gags and drool. Her fragmented fingers remained submerged as her body shut down.

She gurgled idly as any semblance of who she was dripped off of her face, exposing her creepy skeletal smile that had always been underneath. An expression that she’d never planned on showing the world had somehow found daylight.